


Kissed By Fire

by thekittykitsune



Category: American Assassin (2017), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-01 00:35:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12144690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekittykitsune/pseuds/thekittykitsune
Summary: Mitch Rapp was the best of the best. He was cunning, ruthless, and more importantly he has never failed. Not once. But all of that is about to change.





	1. Chapter 1

Years of training embedded in his brain like code could have not prepared him for this. Hell, nothing in this world could have prepared him for this.  _Fuck_ , he thought.  _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Mitch Rapp threw the chair across the room unable to contain his rage. The resonating crack gave him a bit of satisfaction. Unfortunately, it was not enough to calm his nerves. Under any circumstance, he would have a stoic facade, always in control of his emotions but not this time.

Rapp closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, counting from one to ten for good measure meanwhile racking his brain for any logical explanation as to why this was possible. But he came up empty. At first he questioned his sanity that maybe he was loosing it. His kind of profession can do that to a man. Then he reasoned that maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him and he just imagined the whole thing, but that would still fall in the category of him being crazy.  _No,_  he thought.  _This was real._

He knew he needed to get his shit together fast, so he focused on something he knew all too well –anger. Anger was a funny thing to Rapp. It could make even the most holy of man turn into a monster with the proper motivation, of course. He anchored himself to it and it was what kept him sane all these years, anger and the idea of revenge. He thought about all those sleepless nights he spent plotting against the network of faceless men who destroyed his life, who took away his will to live. That was what kept him going. That was what led him to this path right here.

The sound of the door briefly opening and closing caught Rapp’s attention. He turned to watch his fellow operative enter the room. Robert Richards glanced at the broken chair by the wall and looked at Rapp.

“I could take it from here if you want,” Richards offered.

Rapp thought about it for a moment and shook his head. Stan Hurley was flying in from Zurich tomorrow, so Rapp was in charge of the initial interrogation. It was just the standard form of Twenty Questions to size up the prisoners. Then depending on how cooperative they were, the real torture would begin. “I’ll handle it.”

Richards was unsure if that was a good idea. Never make it personal. That was what they were taught and constantly being reminded of by their superiors. And in Rapp’s case, it was as personal as it could get. “You sure?” He asked.

Ignoring the question, Rapp stared at the monitor and contemplated on what to do next. Despite the hot humid weather, goose bumps rose on his flesh. It was like he was looking at a ghost except ghosts were supposed to be dead. And this was a living, breathing human being and she was Mitch Rapp’s ex-fiancee.


	2. Chapter 2

Katrina Reilly awoke with a start. Her body ached like a truck had ran her over and her head throbbed. She groaned. She could feel the beginnings of a really bad headache forming.

As her senses came into focus, she realized she was in an unfamiliar room. Instinctively, she surveyed her surroundings cataloguing everything. The room was sparse and roughly around thirty square meters in size. The walls were bare and there was only one door located at the far right. There were no windows so she had no way to tell the time. She looked up and saw a blinking red dot. It was safe to assume that whoever had the balls to kidnap her was watching.

“Asshole,” Katrina said to no one in particular.

She then tested her restraints. Her hands were tied with rope to the armrests and her ankles to the two front legs. It was tight but easy enough to break free. This wasn’t the first time she was bound to a chair. However, the real problem was she had no idea where she was and how many men she had to get through to escape.

Katrina didn’t like her odds. The possibility of her not making it out alive increased the longer she stayed there. She debated on whether or not she would just make a run for it when the door opened.

A man entered and leaned on the doorframe. He studied her for a long minute and smirked as he walked in closing the door behind him.

Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart started racing. Memories came flooding in. It had been a long time since she saw him. He now had bronzed olive skin. His thick jet black hair was uncombed and he was sporting a beard. He looked different but his eyes were the same dark brown that they were almost black.

“Max Cummins,” Mitch Rapp said. “That’s an interesting alias. For a second there, I thought you were a guy.”

Katrina scoffed. She was very well aware that this type of business pretty much was exclusively an all-men’s club, which was exactly why she chose the name. From her experience, the more misinformation for the enemy the better. And by the looks of it, Rapp looked to be the enemy.

“I hope you know you’re in very deep shit right now.” Rapp said. He then badgered her for information. He asked her all sorts of questions, some she knew the answer to and others not. But throughout, she kept her face a mask of neutrality.

When he realized he wasn’t going to get an answer out of her this way, he decided to switch tactics. “Listen to me. Men are going to come in here and they are going to ask the same questions I’m asking but they are not gonna be gentle about it.”

Katrina rolled her eyes at the threat and spoke for the first time, “What are they gonna do, huh? Are they going to water board me? Electrocute me? Cut off my fingers until I talk? Or are they just going to kill me and be done with it? Just another name to check off their list.”

“Katrina,” His voice raised an octave but in a softer tone continued, “I’m trying to help you.” “Bullshit!” She exclaimed. “If this is what you call helping then I’ll pass.”

Rapp let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not exactly making it easy for anyone.”

“These men,” Katrina spat. “These bureaucrats, your so-called bosses, they’re nothing but a bunch of pussies whose only interest lies in power grabbing. It’s all one big fucking chess game to them. And you’re this little insignificant pawn that can easily be sacrificed. So tell me, Mitch, why should I make it easy for anyone?”

“Because innocent people are going to die and they are going to stay dead.”

That struck a nerve. She glared daggers at him and with a calm voice said, “I’d say fuck you, but I already did.”

Rapp was about to say something in return but was cut-off when the door flew off its hinges. Men dressed in black and green camouflage, and armed with assault rifles piled in.

There was no fear or panic in his eyes except for cold calculation as his instincts immediately kicked in. He drew his 9 mm Beretta from his waistband, aimed and fired. The first bullet hit one of the men in between his eyes, effectively spraying the contents of his head on the wall. Shot after shot, bodies fell to the floor.

Katrina watched as Rapp added the body count. She was slightly fearful of the fact that she was in a vulnerable position and one stray bullet could ricochet off the walls and accidentally hit her.

Certain his attention wasn’t focused on her, she made her move. Katrina flung herself backwards and smashed the chair. Breaking free of her bonds, she stood and grabbed one of the chair’s broken legs.

Rapp, in his peripheral vision, caught sight of her moving towards him. Just as he was about to face her, someone smacked him in the back of the head. In that split second, Katrina used the piece of wood like a truncheon and smacked him in the front. Having been dazed, Rapp got down on his knee and she delivered a quick knee strike on his face before ripping the gun from his hands. Kicks then descended upon him from all directions, knocking the fight out of him.

One of the men was about to shoot Rapp when she intervened. “No. Don’t kill him.”

He gave her an incredulous look and protested, “But he’s one of them.”

Katrina raised her brow challenging him. That was enough for the soldier to back off but not without giving Rapp a final kick in the gut.

Bloodied and heaving for breath, Rapp expected that this would be his end so he was equally surprised by her words.

Katrina walked to where Rapp was lying and bent over. Slowly, she ran her fingers through his dark hair and caressed his face. She then grabbed a fistful of his hair forcing him to look at her and he winced.

“Since the CIA loves to play games, here’s a message for them.” She leaned in, her mouth inches away from his ear and whispered, “Game on.”


	3. Chapter 3

To say that Stan Hurley was livid was an understatement. He was a natural surly bastard, and he would be the first one to admit it. The whole mess in Istanbul, however, made him unusually ranked. He didn’t want to take it out on his niece but his temper got the better of him.

He and Irene Kennedy had spent the better part of the last hour yelling at the top of their lungs and it didn’t seem like they were going to stop anytime soon. Kennedy, who’s usually so calm and collected, was on her feet shrieking like a banshee in an effort to get her point across Hurley’s thick skull.

“I warned you since day one that this would happen, but you didn’t listen.” Hurley snarled. “You keep that dog on too loose of a leash.”

“That dog,” Kennedy hissed. “That dog has racked up more field experience in two years than your ten operatives combined.”

“The point is he still fucked up.” Hurley said enunciating every word and cocked his head at the young spy who was sitting patiently still behind the glass wall.

Mitch Rapp paid his two bosses no heed. He closed his eyes and tuned out their voices the minute they started bickering. He replayed in his mind the series of events that led to this debacle, carefully assessing every detail.

It wasn’t long after Katrina and her men left that Rapp forced himself up ignoring the stabbing pain that shot across his body. He would tend to his wounds later. For now, his mind was solely focused on getting out of there as fast as he could before the cops showed up. If he got caught that would jeopardize the entire operation and put an end to his career, if he still had one to begin with.

Rapp surveyed the destruction before him. Dead bodies and shell casings littered across the floor. Stepping over them, he made his way out of the safe house. Soon enough, he heard sirens blazing in the background and saw police cars heading towards the scene.

As casually possible, he headed towards the market in search of a payphone. He kept his head down but his guard up the whole way. He had to call his handler. It was of utmost importance for him to check in else the powers that be would get more nervous than they already were.

As soon as he found one, he informed Kennedy of the development in a coded message. Her voice betrayed no surprise. It was one of her traits that Rapp admired. In a calm voice, she told him to head back to HQ and so he did.

Throughout the travel home, Rapp let his brain wander in the past. He thought about Katrina. He met her during freshmen year in high school. He was trying out for the lacrosse team when he first saw her. It wasn’t love at first sight. It was something better. And it was the start of one of the greatest love affair he had ever seen.

From then on, they spent every minute possible together. They planned everything. They talked about college, career, kids, etc. And just before graduation, he proposed. He never considered even the slightest possibility that one of them would be gone.

All was perfect –until that dreadful day that basically changed everything.

Katrina and her family had been on a road trip. One of their bonding moments before she goes off to college. They were at a gas station when the car blew up instantly killing everyone inside including two innocent bystanders. Some of the remains were so badly burned that they were impossible to identify. Further investigation revealed that a bomb was planted underneath the car.

When Rapp heard the news he was devastated. He refused to see or talk to anyone. He wallowed in his grief not able to bear the thought of not seeing, smelling, touching her ever again, and the list went on and on.

When it was time for the funeral, he pulled himself together. It was during the mass that he allowed himself to feel again. He shoved his self-pity in a corner and let his anger riot. He then vowed to kill those responsible for her death. And since then, he had been killing terrorists one by one and brought retribution to the table in honor of her memory.

The elevator ding brought Rapp back to the present. The man they had been waiting for finally arrived. Rapp stood up and shook his hand.

“Mr. Rapp. I wish we could’ve met in a far better circumstance.” Thomas Stansfield said. He motioned for Rapp to sit down. Stansfield didn’t like to dilly-dally so he cut right into the heart of the matter. He had already heard what happened from Kennedy and Hurley yet he still wanted to hear it from the man himself.

Rapp recounted what happened. Stansfield was quiet the entire time allowing Rapp to finish his story without interruption. After he was done, Stansfield asked, “What about Ms. Reilly? Finding out she’s alive must have been a shock for you.”

Rapp shrugged, unsure of what Stansfield was asking.

“Is it possible that maybe you let your feelings get in the way?”

“I won’t lie to you. Was I surprised? Yes. Anyone would be. But did I let my feelings get in the way? No. That’s what compartmentalizing is for.”

Stansfield leaned on his chair. “Hurley thinks it would be a mistake to send you in again.”

“The mistake was I didn’t go alone.” Rapp deadpanned.

Stansfield arched a brow. “Care to elaborate?”

“If I was alone I could’ve handled the situation better and I wouldn’t have to worry about a double agent smacking me at the back of my head.” Rapp said without flinching.

Stansfield stroke his chin as if deep in thought. He looked at Rapp and smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Rapp. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With his usual composure, Stansfield stood up and walked in to the glass office.

“Thank God,” Hurley announced.

With great disappointment, Stansfield glared down at the length of the table first at Hurley then at Kennedy. “Sit,” He ordered. Kennedy sat. But Hurley remained standing. “The first one who raises their voice will be stuck behind a desk for the rest of their life.”

“You can’t put me behind a desk,” Hurley called his bluff.

“No. But I can think of something much worse,” Stansfield threatened.

That was enough for Hurley to shut up. He knew all too well what Stansfield was capable of.

“How bad is it?” Stansfield asked both of them.

“Bad,” Kennedy answered.

“And Richards?” He inquired.

Hurley shook his head. “The only information we have is from what Rapp told us. For all we know, he could be lying and he’s the traitor.”

“You’re really still milking that?” Kennedy asked annoyed.

“Yes. I’m still milking that.”

“So you think that Mitch Rapp and Katrina Reilly conspired with terrorists to kill her entire family then fake her own death, all so that he could be a mole in the CIA? Do you hear yourself?”

“With all the yelling I’ve been doing, I do and you should too.” Hurley said sarcastically.

Wanting to avoid another screaming match, Stansfield changed the subject and asked Hurley, “What did your sources in Zurich say?”

“Nothing specific yet. All they know is it’ll be in Moscow.” Hurley replied.

Of course it is, Stansfield thought. From their enemies’ perspective, it would make perfect sense.

“I’ll put my team together and we’ll fly to Moscow first thing tomorrow.” Hurley offered.

“What about Rapp?” Kennedy asked.

“What about him? The little shit fucked up. Sending him in would be a preposterous.”

“And sending you wouldn’t?” Kennedy pressed. She looked at Stansfield and pleaded her case. “I know we don’t usually let it get personal here but think about it. She has history with Rapp, yes. But she also had the chance to kill him but she didn’t. You know I’m right.”

Stansfield pondered on the thought for a moment. That definitely was a complication but it could still work in their advantage.

“I agree with Irene.” Stansfield said.

Kennedy inwardly smiled but kept her face neutral. Hurley on the other hand was furious.

“What?” He exclaimed. “You can’t be serious.”

Stansfield stood up and with finality said, “Rapp will go alone. End of discussion.” As he turned to leave, he motioned for Kennedy to follow him as they needed to discuss matters in private.

On his way out, Stansfield nodded at Rapp signaling his approval. He then made his way to the elevators with Kennedy on his tail.

As the elevator doors closed, Rapp turned to Hurley who was now standing next to him with an incredulous look on his face. He crossed his arms and waited for Hurley to speak; bracing himself for the mouthful he would surely receive.

Hurley lit a cigarette and said, “I don’t care what Stansfield says, you’re not going alone.” He was well aware that he would be disobeying a direct order but he didn’t care at this point, not when the stakes are these high. He took a long drag off his cigarette and asked genuinely curious, “What are you going to do if she comes at you?”

Rapp asked himself that same question since their encounter. And after a lot of thinking he made his choice. The Katrina he once knew and loved was dead and whoever he met in Istanbul was an empty shell. He gave Hurley an icy glare and with a voice devoid of any emotion answered, “Then I’ll put a bullet in her head.”


	4. Chapter 4

Katrina Reilly stared at her reflection in her vanity as she put on her diamond earrings. Her hair and makeup were already done with perfection. Satisfied with the woman staring back, she smoothed out her velvet dress, got up, and left the bedroom.

She walked down the halls of the lavish apartment and made her way to the study. Her uncle's one of many contacts owned the place; one of the perks of being friends with the world's elite. She knocked on the door twice before entering.

Gregori Vega was sitting down on his mahogany desk while talking with someone. He smiled as his favorite niece entered. He closed the folder on his desk and gave Robert Richards a slight nod, dismissing him. Katrina flashed Richards a tight smile acknowledging his presence.

"I don't trust him," Katrina said as soon as Richards left.

"Richards has proven his worth and his loyalty," Vega replied. He knew Katrina had reservations about the former operative and she wasn't scared to voice them.

Katrina scoffed. "Anyone who betrays their country is worth shit."

He clasped his hands together and asked, "And what about you?"

"They betrayed me first." She said pointedly.

"Yes, they did. And yet you still betrayed them in the end."

“There is a saying, ‘An eye for an eye,’ and I'm only returning the favor."

"That you are, my dear." He stepped away from his desk and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Enough of this dreadful topic. The car is probably ready and we don't want to be late."

Katrina nodded and accepted her uncle's outstretched arm.

The ride to the hotel was a silent one. Her mind was racing filled with thoughts of her encounter with her former flame. Shaking her head, she forced herself to relax and try to enjoy the night ahead.

The car came to a stop and they both got out. The hotel was nothing short of magnificent. The entrance had a majestic set of marble stairs that led into the lobby. Statues of old Russian heroes lined both sides of the stairs. The interior of the hotel was better than the exterior, with paintings and arches that rivaled the Sistine Chapel. Distinguished looking guests filled the lobby. Old men were retelling the stories during the reign of communism; the younger ones discussing their recent adventures while their wives sneaked away without them noticing.

Vega greeted his colleagues with smiles and open arms. Meanwhile, Katrina left his side, not really interested in mingling, and made her way to the bar.

"You look stunning tonight." A voice came up from behind her.

Without turning around, she already knew who it was. The bartender handed her a glass of champagne and she gracefully accepted. "I thought you would've taken the hint the last time we saw each other."

"I took it under consideration. But we both know how stubborn I can be." Mitch Rapp smirked.

"No. I think you just have a death wish."

Rapp was about to say something when he was interrupted by Vega raising his glass and verbally asking everyone's attention. Standing at the top of the staircase, he said, "Ladies and gentleman, in behalf of Palladin, thank you for coming. Tonight we are celebrating a new era of leaders..."

Rapp only paid half his attention to Vega's speech and scanned around the room, taking note of the faces present. Most of the guests were successful businessmen and members of the government. Rich bastards, he thought. He knew almost everything about them including their underground dealings with terrorists. That was his mission. He was to put a stop to their plans and tonight might be the penultimate of things, and he knew he could not afford to fail.

"Starting to get bored?" Stan Hurley asked through the earpiece. He was patiently manning the operation in one of the hotel's rooms. As much as Hurley would like to be there as well, he had been in the game for a long time and they could not risk him being recognized. So for now, he had to stay in the shadows while still keeping an eye out for Rapp.

Rapp ignored Hurley and focused back on Vega, who was now almost finished with his speech.

"And soon, Palladin will light up the sky. Cheers!"

Mitch raised his glass and toasted along with the crowd. Music then started playing in the background. Downing his drink, he turned to Katrina and asked, "May I have this dance?"

Katrina shot him a skeptical look.

Hurley echoed her sentiment and warned him, "Now is not the time to flirt and make-up, Rapp. Remember who she's working with."

Rapp took the champagne flute from her hand and placed both their glasses on top of the bar counter. He then extended his hand and said, "For old time's sake."

Finding no harm to having one dance, she relented. Mitch led her to the middle of the dance floor. He placed his right arm around her waist with his wrist high under her shoulder and his right hand on her left shoulder blade. Her left arm lied gently on top of his right with her left hand resting softly on his shoulder, with the fingers of her right hand softly folded over his.

Katrina took a deep breath. Her heart was racing. She hadn't been this close to him since the accident and being this close in proximity with him is making her a nervous wreck.

"I thought you said you hated these type of people." Rapp said after a while.

"I do. But it doesn't mean I can't have fun." She smirked, but avoided looking directly in his eyes.

"Do you think about it?"

"About what?"

"What could've been. We could still be dancing together but in very different circumstances."

"I don't let myself dwell in the past too much." She lied.

Rapp caught her little fib. "Oh really?"

"All right lover boy, enough–" Hurley's transmission was suddenly cut short and all Rapp could hear was static. His eyes widened in alarm and looked at Katrina's confused face.

She noted the shift in his demeanor and asked, "Mitch? What's wrong?" She looked at his searching eyes nervous at what she'll find.

Rapp surveyed the room once more and then he spotted him –or more like them. For anyone else, they would have dismissed the exchange as colleagues meeting but for a trained assassin, it was a signal. In that split second, Rapp figured out what was going to happen.

"Get down!" He yelled. Then all hell broke loose.

The sound of glass shattering echoed across the room and men wearing black gear broke in through the window. They let out a steady rain of bullets killing anyone in their path. Bodyguards opened fire as they hurriedly evacuated their bosses. People to and fro were running and screaming, desperate to escape the chaos before them. Bodies already littered the floor and pleas for help from the wounded echoed across the room.

One of Rapp's many talents was to slow things down in his mind. It came in handy during his lacrosse games especially when attempting to make the winning shot. And it also came in handy at times like this. Instinctively, he pulled out his gun and fired away. He grabbed Katrina's hand and ran for cover. They both hid behind the bar counter. A plan was already forming in his mind and all he needed to do was to be patient. Sooner or later, those men are going to need to reload and that would be his window of opportunity.

"Any idea who these guys are?" Katrina asked, sinking lower to the ground to avoid the ricochet of bullets.

"No." Rapp replied. "You?"

She shook her head and glanced at his Beretta. "Can I have a gun?"

Rapp scoffed at the request. "Get your own."

"I can help." She insisted.

He gave her a long look and reluctantly handed her his backup pistol tucked away in his ankle holster. Katrina smiled. For a brief moment, everything became quiet as the shooting receded. Rapp briefly nodded at her and that was when they made their move. Simultaneously, they stood and opened fire. Neither wasted a single bullet, hitting their targets in areas they knew would be fatal. One by one, bodies fell on the blood covered tiles.

When Rapp ran out of ammunition, he sought refuge from one of the defaced pillars. He drew out his last magazine and loaded his gun. He could feel someone closing in. As far as he could tell, they were the last ones left standing. He steadied his breathing and jumped out from behind the pillar the same time Katrina turned around. They both pointed their weapons and stared at one another. Their stand-off was broken when gunshots rang across the great hall followed by a grunt of pain as another body fell to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it's really short but I'm cleaning out my stuff and I just don't want to delete this by accident. I'll add more to this chapter soon enough.

Katrina Reilly knew –or more likely felt –the exact moment she was shot. It was when her brain told her to shoot the man standing in front of her and eliminate the problem once and for all, but her heart dictated otherwise. And like all indecisive moments, where one allows doubt to cloud their judgment, major consequences are inevitable. And this time, it was a bullet to her shoulder.

Her mind was reeling with possibility that he shot her. But once the initial shock wore off, pain contorted her features as she took a staggering backward.

Mitch Rapp, on the other hand, did not hesitate to pull the trigger. He stood there in front of Katrina ready to fire when at the corner of his eye, he saw another man poised to shoot Katrina. Angling his gun a several inches to the right, he let out a string of bullets killing the gunman.

He then rushed to catch Katrina as she feel to the ground. Blood gushed out of her wound turning her dress into crimson.

"I got you," Mitch said. "We have to get out of here. Can you stand?"

Katrina only nodded her response. With him helping her up, they made their way towards the nearest exit doing their best to avoid any of the hotel guests or employees.

Grand theft auto was the first thing that entered Mitch's mind as he spotted a black automobile parked in the corner. He punched the car's window and aided Katrina in.

With a destination in mind, he started the car and drove like hell. He only slowed down when the police cars sped passed, as to not to arouse suspicion.

"Where are we going?" Katrina asked, breaking the silence.

"There's a safe house not far from here," he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

She grabbed his arm and said, "No."

"But–"

"Please." She begged.

Mitch nodded in understanding and decided to hell with protocol. He switched lanes and drove the opposite direction from the safe house.


End file.
